I still daydream.
I bet at least once a day I’ll find myself in a not-present state, and almost always, in a better place than reality. And not really in the way that I wish I were in Bali, even though I do, but in really obscure ways. Like, if I were to put away one dollar bill for a bookmark instead of using plastic ones, how many bills would I have collected over the years? Or, if the person that installed the papertowel dispenser in the ladies bathroom at work had sat down before finishing the job, my toilet seat wouldn’t be wet every day. Or, if all lotions had the smell of both dessert and the beach at the same time, like my new favorite, I’d be a lot more lotioned.
Anyway, I was sitting in one of those daydreams this afternoon, only I was quite present in it. I was in the Starbucks drive-thru picking up my favorite green tea, and noticing their building being exquisitely inviting. I noticed that my car didn’t smell as good as outside did and rolled down a second window. And I turned down the news because it was belching gun control news, just like 84% of my Facebook newsfeed. My mind wandered to that place that it does, and I thought of all the bad news lately, all the darkness in the world, all my fears that I keep closeted until late nights or early mornings when the silence isn’t enough to hush them. In the three and a half minutes I was waiting in line and not thinking of Bali, I was wildly processing all the horrible things that were happening around my reality and willing an answer of peace to wash over me.
Instead, my turn to pay was up. I handed the man my George Washingtons, taking note even, that they still say, “In God We Trust.” . He held up his hand and shook his head and brightly said, “No ma’am, that gentleman in the pickup in front of you paid for your order.” Despite my goal to do this as often as possible, I was speechless. The goodness of fellow coffee lover in front of me had just snapped me out of my lack of peace.
After pulling my composure out of the crack in my downed window, I told him I’d then like to pay for the lady behind me in line. I don’t know why, at 2pm on a Tuesday, that this beautiful Starbucks was so brilliantly busy, but I loved the opportunity to quickly continue to pay it forward, and did. He waited until I offered before telling me that I was the eighth person in a row and we both exclaimed about how incredible it’d be if it went on all afternoon. He also noted that not only that, but last week he was part of a FORTY EIGHT CAR LONG PAY IT FORWARD and none of them knew it.
As I sit here listening to the ingenious guitar work of Joe Satriani, I can’t but let my mind wander just a bit again. The stars aren’t so far out of reach in this dark world, friends. We just need to choose to see them. In faaaaaaaaact, what if you were to start a whole constellation of your today?